


Under Covers

by amathela



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: Community: helpbrazil2011, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/pseuds/amathela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auggie's sick (but not if you ask him).  Annie's playing nurse (but not if you ask her).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Covers

"Okay, hotshot," Annie says, settling back in her chair. "Tell me about the girl at the bar."

"Left or right?" Auggie asks.

"Left."

He takes a minute, and she almost (foolishly) thinks he's going to come up blank before he says, "Pretty. Kind of bookish, though. Shy. Probably wears glasses. I'd say advanced degree, works in an office somewhere."

As subtly as she can, Annie checks over her shoulder. Glasses. Pretty. Lanyard.

"So?"

"How do you do that?" she asks, and Auggie shrugs, like it's no big deal. Annie's pretty sure even she wouldn't have been able to do that, not from the brief glance she'd got when the woman walked in. And she's supposed to be the field agent.

"Are you sure we shouldn't switch jobs?" she asks, and Auggie laughs.

"You wouldn't be able to do my job," he says. And then, "Men slow down around her, but they don't stop to talk, so she's pretty, but she's not putting out signals. Her bag sounds heavy, so she's probably got a laptop in there, and she's carrying a folder. Office work, but she's serious about it, so that means it's important."

"Advanced degree," she supplies, and he nods. "And the glasses?"

He shrugs. "Lucky guess."

"Yeah, well your lucky guess just cost me the next round," she says, already sliding her chair back. "Same again?"

But Auggie says, "Don't worry about it," smiling in that way she still finds a little disarming; open wide, hiding nothing. She can see why women go home with him. He must have been a damn good field agent.

"I lost," she says, but it's not really a protest; she still needs to pay rent, even if Danielle doesn't insist, and despite the movies, nobody ever got rich by working for the CIA.

"Yeah," he says. "But I want to go talk to the girl."

"You sure you didn't want to try the trashy blonde on the right?"

Auggie just smiles. "I like a girl who can read."

"Really?" she asks, and he tries - and fails - to look genuinely offended. Maybe he was just an okay field agent.

"Hey," he says. "I have standards."

Annie doesn't say anything. She especially doesn't say anything about last Thursday night, which can probably speak for itself.

"Sometimes," he admits finally.

"Right," she says. "Well, be my guest."

Except then Auggie doesn't so much stand up as he does trip over his chair and nearly faint, and Annie's out of her own chair and beside him before he can even wave her away.

"I'm fine," he says, and she steps back, but doesn't let go. "Just clumsy."

"Auggie, you're never clumsy," she says. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he repeats, but then he stumbles again, and this time, Annie stays close to him despite his protests.

"No," she says. "You're not. You look a little pale. I think maybe you've had enough."

"I've had two drinks."

"Maybe two drinks too many," she jokes, even though she knows he's telling the truth. Unless he started downing shots while she was in the restroom, anyway. "I'm cutting you off."

Come to think of it, he looks more than pale. He looks terrible.

"Annie -"

She silences him with a hand on her forehead, and though he puts his own over it, he doesn't move it away. "You're burning up."

"It's just the heating in here," he says, but it's a weak excuse, and they both know it.

"A lot of people have been calling in sick lately," she points out.

"Two," he says.

"Four," she counters, "and that's just this week."

"I'm not sick."

No, but he's definitely getting there.

"Sorry, Romeo," she says, holding Auggie's elbow with one hand and reaching for her jacket with the other. "You're just going to have to live out your hot librarian fantasies another time."

"How do you know I have hot librarian fantasies?" he asks.

"Everybody has hot librarian fantasies," she says. And he doesn't have to look at her like that, either; it's perfectly natural.

"But the girl -"

"Will be here again next week, I'm sure," she says. "But the only person you're going home with tonight is me."

She uses her most stubborn voice, so she isn't surprised when Auggie decides not to argue. (Well, okay, she is, but only a little.) Instead, he sticks out his elbow to give her a better grip, and says, "Hey, never let it be said that I turned down a pretty girl offering to take me home."

-

By the time they get back to Auggie's place, Auggie half sprawled on the couch next to Annie in a position that can't be comfortable but is probably all he can manage, he looks even worse.

"You need to get into bed," Annie says, and he quirks an eyebrow at her, smiles like it's all a joke.

"Wow," he says. "I know I'm good, but that was fast, even for me."

"You're not good, you're hot," she says. And then, ignoring his smirk, "Literally."

"Want to come feel me up?"

"And incorrigible," she says.

"You know you love me."

"I'd love you more," she says, "if you got into bed."

"That's what all the women say," he says. "I bet you're not even going to stay the night."

"I'll stay the night," she says, "if you'll admit you're sick."

"Annie," he says, suddenly serious, or close enough. "Really, I'm fine. You don't have to stay with me."

"Auggie," she says. "Really, you're not. I think you might have the flu."

"Annie -"

"Trust me," she says. "Chloe and Katia got sick last month, and they started off exactly like this." And adds, as he opens his mouth to protest again, "Complete with the whining."

"I," Auggie says, "am not whining. I'm protesting your false accusations."

"That you're sick?" she asks. "It's not an accusation, it's an observation. There's nothing wrong with being sick."

"Yeah, except for the part where I'm sick."

"Aha!" she says, a little embarrassed as she leaps off the couch, even though Auggie can't see her. "So you admit it."

"Will that make you drop it?" he asks.

"Nope," she says. "But if you get in bed, I'll get you a hot water bottle and heat up some soup."

"I don't have any soup."

Okay, so, small setback. "Then I'll make soup."

"From scratch?"

"Yep."

"You'll cook?"

All right, maybe it's not the best idea ever. Not that she couldn't cook soup, if she wanted to, she just - doesn't want to mess up Auggie's kitchen.

"Fine," she says. "But if you're really good, maybe I'll get Danielle to cook something."

Auggie actually has the temerity to look relieved, which - fine, is probably fair.

"And," she says, "I'm not leaving until you get in bed, so you might as well just do what I say."

"Bossy," he says, but like he's enjoying it.

"Just get in bed, Auggie."

"Are you going to tuck me in?"

"Well, you are acting like a child," she says. "So maybe I should treat you like one."

"I am not acting like a child," he says. It would be a lot more effective if he weren't pouting.

"Then shut up and take your pants off."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and Annie turns around, just in case.

Not that she thinks Auggie would have got undressed in front of her. Probably.

"So," she calls over her shoulder. "Where's your hot water bottle?"

"I don't have one."

Of course he doesn't.

"You don't have soup, you don't have a hot water bottle. What do you do when you get sick?"

"I don't."

"All appearances to the contrary."

"Hey," he says, "you're the one who's convinced I'm sick. I still think you're just trying to get to get me naked."

"Then mission accomplished," she says, turning around just in time to see Auggie pull the sheets up over himself. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I think I'll be okay," he says. "Honestly."

"And you're not just going to get up again as soon as I leave?"

"Now that you've given me the idea," he says, and then laughs. "I promise, I won't leave this bed until my alarm goes off."

"Your alarm?" Annie shakes her head. "Auggie, you're sick. That means staying home."

"Maybe for you," he says. "But I'm pretty sure that place would fall apart without me."

Arrogant, but unfortunately true.

"Auggie -"

"Annie," he says. "I swear, by tomorrow morning, I'll be fine."

"Fine," she says, reluctantly. "But I'm going to get a bottle of water and put it by your bed, okay? And I'm going to check on you on my way in tomorrow."

"You really don't need to do that," he says, raising his voice like he knows she's already halfway out the room. Which she is, and she places Auggie's hand on the water bottle after she puts it by his bed.

"Annie," he says as she turns to leave again, and she pauses. "Thank you. But I'm still not sick."

"Yeah," she says. "We'll see that tomorrow."

-

The next day, Auggie's definitely sick.

Even though Annie's convinced she's right, she's still half expecting him to greet her at the door when she gets to his apartment, grinning smugly and rubbing in how wrong she was.

Instead, he's still in bed, pale and sweating, sheets tangled around his waist like he's been tossing around all night.

"Annie?" he says, and the fact that she managed to get all the way to his bedroom before he noticed her almost worries her more than anything.

"It's me," she says, walking slowly, stepping heavily. Usually, she wouldn't bother - she wouldn't have to - but she's not sure how awake he even is yet. "How are you feeling?"

Stupid question, but, well.

"I'm fine."

Okay, even stupider answer.

"Auggie," she says, sitting down by the edge of the bed. After a moment, she touches his hand to let him know she's there, and then presses her palm against his forehead. "You're covered in sweat, you look like you barely slept, and you're burning up."

"Maybe my heater's busted."

"Your heater's fine," she says, "and you have to stop using that excuse."

"Fine," he says. "I admit it. I'm a sleep sweater."

"Nice try. You're sick."

"I'm not -"

"You're sick, and I'm going to take care of you. Where's your thermometer? Do you want some more water?"

"Seriously -"

That's all she hears; she's already out of the room, empty water bottle clutched in one hand, switching on a fresh pot of coffee before moving on to the bathroom. Being careful not to move things around too much, putting them back where she found them, she rummages through the drawers looking for a thermometer, and finally finds one all the way in the back.

By the time she gets back with the water, thermometer, and two cups of coffee, Auggie's sitting up, half-dressed in a pair of sweatpants, and not looking any better than he did when she came in.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asks, and he freezes, tries to stand, then half falls back into bed.

"Getting up," he says, even though he's doing nothing of the sort. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"Not so fast," she says, holding it just out of reach. It isn't hard; Auggie can barely sit up enough to lunge for it. "First, I have to take your temperature."

"Coffee first," he says, and she shakes her head.

"Coffee after," she says. "It'll mess with the thermometer. Unless you want me to take it the less fun way."

"Less fun for you, maybe," he says, but his grimace gives him away. At her continued silence, he sighs, and says, "Fine. The things I'll do for caffeine."

Annie touches his shoulder as she kneels beside him, and after a second, she opens his mouth.

"I really don't think this is -"

"No talking," she chides. "Just wait a minute."

Almost to her surprise, he does, and she stares at the thermometer for a moment after she pulls it out.

"See?" Auggie says. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Auggie," she says. "You have a temperature of a hundred and four."

"What?" he asks. "I do not. Give it to me."

She hands the thermometer over, and Auggie runs his hands over it, and then frowns.

"That could be wrong."

"I know how to take a temperature," she says, exasperated. "And yours is crazy high."

"Whatever," he says. "Can I get my coffee now?"

Against her better judgement, Annie hands it over. Compromise, she thinks. Give him something small, and make him agree to the important stuff.

Like the fact that, no matter what he thinks, Auggie is not leaving his apartment today. Not for the next week, if she can help it.

After a minute, he asks, "Could you hand me a shirt?" and she laughs out loud.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says. "Why do you need a shirt?"

"Because I'm not too sure Joan would appreciate me coming in to work half naked."

Yep, there's that laughter again. "Auggie, there's no way you're going in to work today." And then, as he opens his mouth to protest, "I know, I know, the whole place will fall apart without you. Somehow, we're just going to have to manage."

There's silence, and then, "You're not going to budge on this, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Auggie sighs dramatically, but she knows it's for show. "Are you at least going to make me breakfast?"

"For you," she says, "anything."

Fifteen minutes later, she serves him eggs and toast in bed, and Auggie smiles. She's not sure how he still has an appetite - the last time she had the flu, she couldn't eat for three days - but if that's what he wants, she's not going to argue.

"You're not eating?" he asks.

"I ate at home," she says.

"You mean you grabbed a piece of dry toast while running out the door."

"Actually, it had jam on it," she says, and reaches for Auggie's plate. "But if you insist."

"Thief," he says, but he's smiling.

"Hey," she says. "I made it."

"After you took it upon yourself to be my caretaker."

"I'm just a concerned friend," she says.

And then gets a lot more concerned as Auggie raises a hand to his mouth.

"Oh, god," he moans, and she gets the trash can to him just in time.

"So," she says, handing him the water bottle when he's done. "Still think you aren't sick?"

"I definitely think you're taking way too much enjoyment from this."

"Yeah," she says. "Because that was so attractive."

"Hey, feel free to leave."

For a moment - only a moment - she considers it. And then, mostly because he looks so miserable, she says, "I'll let Joan know where I am. If she needs me, she can call."

"Annie, you don't have to -"

"Hey," she says. "The whole place might burn to the ground without you, but I'm pretty sure they can do without me for a few hours."

"True," he says, and she laughs; at least the flu hasn't dampened his sense of humour.

"All right," she says. "I'm going to go make the call. Do you think you can get back in bed by yourself?"

"I'm sure I can manage it," he says, which is a little more confident than she feels; still, she leaves him to it.

When she gets back, he's half managed it.

"Okay," he admits reluctantly. "Maybe I could use some help."

"Obviously," she says. "First, you're supposed to get under the covers, not on top of them."

She leans over him, pulling the sheets up as he lays down, and settling them back over him. Once she's convinced he isn't going to roll out, she disappears for a second into the bathroom, wets a washcloth, and comes back to place it over his forehead.

"That feels nice," Auggie says, and she smiles.

"I know," she says. "Do you want some more water?"

"Yeah," he says, sitting up just enough to drink, and she replaces the cap for him. "You know, you'd make a pretty good nurse."

"Whatever," she says, rolling her eyes. "Go back to sleep."

"Stay with me?" he asks, and after a second, she climbs in the bed beside him, on top of the covers.

"Better?" she asks, and he nods, clasping her hand.

"Next time you play nurse," he whispers, "you should wear the costume."

Annie just smiles, and waits for him to fall asleep.

-

An hour later, almost on the verge of sleep herself, she gets a call from Joan. She records a message for Auggie, not that she thinks he'll be waking up again any time soon, and runs her hands quickly through her hair on her way out the door.

-

When she gets back, Auggie's awake, but still in bed, and he smiles as she enters.

"Have fun at work?" he asks.

"Oh, yeah," she says. "Have fun at home?"

"Can't you tell?" he asks. He sounds better, at least, though he still looks the same, and when she checks, his temperature hasn't dropped.

She settles back down onto the bed beside him.

"You know you can leave, right?" he asks. "I don't want to get you sick."

"I'm pretty sure it's already too late for that," she says, rolling over. "Besides, I'll be fine. I've got a good immune system."

"Me, too," Auggie says, like it's a warning.

-

When Annie wakes up, her first thought is that she didn't mean to fall asleep.

Her second is that maybe her immune system isn't as good as she thought it was.

"Okay," she says, already anticipating Auggie's response. "I think I'm sick."

He just laughs.

"It isn't funny," she says, though it kind of is. They're definitely quite a pair.

"Well," he says, "feel free to share my sickbed any time."

"That's what got me into this mess," she says, but she doesn't move; the damage is already done, anyway.

When Auggie rolls over, slinging an arm across her shoulder, she leaves it there.

"Next time," she says, feeling herself being pulled back to sleep already, "it's your turn to play nurse."

Auggie laughs again. "Only if I get to wear the costume."

It's a deal.


End file.
